InsaneJournal

The past week had been mostly a blur.  Thursday's victory against the Magpies had been way too close for comfort.  It was a very low scoring game, on both sides, and it had come down to whomever caught the Snitch first.  The next day during post-game analysis he had tore his Chasers a new one.  They couldn't afford to play that way come this Saturday.  It was their rematch against the Harpies.  And he had no intention of losing that - or of being unconscious for it.

When Philbert Deverill, his manager, told him he would be doing the Quidditch Zone wireless show he had rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache.  He didn't understand publicists.  The game was sold out.  It had been sold out for months.  And now, instead of doing what he should be doing (strategizing), he had to go on a radio show.  At least the host, Jack Barrowman, was a fun bloke, a die hard Puddlemere fan, and incredibly knowledgable when it came to the sport.

As he walked through the corridors of the show's building, he ran into his many-night fling: Cordelia Chase.

"Cordy, wha-" before he could ask what she was doing here, she had come up to him and kissed him full on the mouth. "I - wow."  He said glancing at her ensemble.

"I have a modeling shoot now," she whispered softly in his ear.  "But you should keep yourself free tonight."  He didn't have time to react before she had kissed him on the nose and walked off, strutting, the outfit accentuating her curves perfectly.

"Merlin's beard."  It took him several moments to regain his composure.  Fortunately, there weren't any photographers in the corridor.  He found his way to the Zone's studio and walked in.

Nearly an hour had passed.  He didn't know how the team's publicist had done it.  But he had managed to book Oliver for the entire show.  He had only expected to be there a few minutes or at least have Gwenog Jones opposite him. 

"Now onto the last question," Jack said with a grin.  <I>Thank Merlin,</I> Wood thought. "I see Cordelia Chase lurking off stage waiting for you.  You two have been seen around town quite a lot the past year or so.  Can you tell our listeners, Wood, what the status of your relationship is?  How serious is it?"

Barrowman had thrown Oliver Wood a curveball, which he had decided to swing at.

"I wouldn't say it is serious, Jack, just a long, drawn out fling," Jack's jaw had dropped a foot before Wood had realized what he had said.

"What I meant was-" He tried to correct himself, but he had forgotten who had been standing off stage just moments ago.  The next thing Oliver knew, a hand had come flying through the air connecting with his face - ring turned inwards so as to make a gash.

He stared into the face of Cordelia Chase, whose eyes burned with anger and hurt and maybe even disappointment. "Go to Hell, Wood."

Camera flashes had been going off like fireworks since Oliver had made his blunder.  As photographers swarmed in trying to get close-ups of Oliver's bleeding face, Jack had grabbed Oliver's arm and was pulling him into the changing room, so he could use the private floo to get out.

"I'm an idiot," he said out loud as he floo-ed away. By the time he had made it back to his place, his front yard was littered with the smoldering remains of howlers.